35: Ghost Classifications

Zhou Shurong’s tool-person had good instincts and managed to escape just in time. Before the hospital was sealed off, he slipped out and brushed past a crowd of people.

From within the shadows, Zhou Shurong could see what was happening outside. Then, in the midst of that crowd, he spotted a familiar face.

—Ah Ling.

That woman was still as pale and frail as ever, but her spirit had improved. There was a resolute, hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

It caught Zhou Shurong off guard—she actually seemed to be doing okay.

Ah Ling seemed to sense the gaze and turned toward it. But what she saw was Zhou Shurong’s tool-person.

The tool-person was running fast, and she only caught a glimpse of his back.

A trace of surprise crossed her face as she called out,

“Brother Wu!”

The strongest man in the group responded. He turned his head slightly and said nonchalantly, “You didn’t imagine it.”

“Then should we—”

“No need to worry about it,” the man cut her off. “Just a low-level wandering spirit. No real threat. The important one is the vengeful ghost inside.”

Ah Ling instinctively looked toward the hospital. Her face turned even paler, her body trembling uncontrollably, teeth chattering.

“Vengeful ghost…” she stammered. The baby ghost inside her trembled along with her, nearly bursting into tears.

No one laughed at her. For a rookie on her first mission, not wetting herself from fear was already a solid performance. Seeing her legs shaking like that, Brother Wu simply grabbed her—like picking up a chick—and tucked her under his arm as the group dashed into the hospital.

The hospital doors opened swiftly, then sealed shut again.

Once Ah Ling was on her feet, she could feel the heavy pressure nearby. She didn’t dare look up and did her best to suppress her fear, gently soothing the baby ghost inside:

“Shh… Baby, be good. Don’t be scared.”

If the baby ghost cried, she’d cry too. But now was not the time to use powers. As a newcomer, she had to follow the captain’s commands.

The baby ghost curled up in her womb, sucking its fingers, sniffling on the verge of tears.

The tool-person who’d escaped the hospital had made it into a car. But the police soon cordoned off the entire street, including the hospital, so he couldn’t get away. He sat in the driver’s seat, furiously pounding the steering wheel and cursing into the air.

Zhou Shurong emerged and looked back deeply—the hospital complex was massive, stretching across nearly half the block.

The hospital doors were shut tight, surrounded by yellow warning tape and uniformed personnel.

“Ah Ling… wandering spirit… vengeful ghost…”

Zhou Shurong repeated the bits of information the group had revealed, one word at a time.

“I’m the wandering spirit,” Zhou Shurong murmured. “And the vengeful ghost… that’s the old woman in the hospital.”

“Their aura is strange… like… like they’re possessed by ghosts.”

Several of them made him feel genuine fear. That meant the ghosts within them were far beyond his own level.

Now he understood how these professionals dealt with ghosts.

It wasn’t anything like monks or Taoists waving around prayer beads, charms, or peachwood swords.

It was just… ghost against ghost.

No point watching further. Zhou Shurong swaggered right through the police line.

Night had fallen deep. Ping’an Community was deathly quiet, not even the chirp of a bug or bird.

Zhou Shurong didn’t return to Qin Yan’s house. He was worried the unprocessed yin energy in his body might harm him. So he lay down under a pagoda tree.

Back in the hospital, the lobby had been cleared. Almost everyone had fled upstairs. Those who ran toward the entrance had mostly been hit by the eerie gray dust. The rest had no choice but to use elevation to hide.

Some huddled in closed spaces, like elevators.

Fortunately, the dust had no consciousness. It didn’t actively seek out people.

Once the hospital doors were shut, gray powder floated through the lobby like a starry galaxy, shimmering faintly.

The Observation Society had gotten word beforehand. An “inside man” had tipped them off, so they sent in a defensive-type ghost handler. When the group entered, they were protected under a black energy shield.

Upstairs, the infected screamed in agony—the dust was utterly invasive.

Ah Ling trembled at the shrieks but she couldn’t run. Joining the Observation Society and helping exterminate ghosts was her only path to avoid prison.

Plus, she’d learned to control her baby ghost.

The Society had helped her seal the ghost inside her body, allowing her to wield its power—that made her a ghost handler.

In this era of spiritual resurgence, her baby ghost made her destined for greatness.

She couldn’t back down now.

In the vast lobby, aside from the Observation Society members, there was only one other presence—the vengeful ghost in the form of an old woman.

She was tightly embracing a young man…

His head drooped to one side. He’d already stopped breathing.

A husband and wife—when disaster struck, they fled alone. The husband was dead. The wife lay in a hospital room, wailing. Her body was covered in sore-like boils, itching and burning. She couldn’t take it. She scratched one, and the pus burst out, instantly corroding her skin.

The old woman let out a strange sound from her throat, as if she were sobbing over her son’s death.

No one made a move. First, they had to understand the situation—and uncover the ghost’s weakness.

Brother Wu asked their inside contact via phone what was going on.

“That young man is the corpse ghost’s son.”

“Oh? Did she die because of him?”

“Seems so. According to the medical staff, she had severe bedsores before death—some parts had rotted from neglect. She died because she didn’t get timely treatment.”

Bother Wu asked, “So she was born from resentment?”

“Yes. And she sought out her son first.”

Brother Wu looked at the cloud of dust and asked, “So her killing rule is related to this powder? What kind of harm does it cause?”

Killing rules, also known as death skills, could kill both the living and other ghosts.

“Yes. She emits this gray dust. Once it touches people, boils start to form. If popped, the pus corrodes flesh rapidly.”

“How many dead so far?”

“No fatalities yet. The injuries can be treated medically.” The informant hadn’t stayed in the lobby, so he didn’t know the son had already died.

As soon as he finished speaking, the old woman released the man in her arms. He collapsed—and rapidly rotted into a skeleton.

The Observation Society: “……”

The old woman slowly turned toward them, still holding that embrace pose, as countless particles of gray dust surged toward them like a tidal wave.

Tens of thousands of dust motes formed a “galaxy” and smashed into their protective barrier.

“Zzzz—zzzz—”

The shield began to corrode.

“How long can it hold?” Brother Wu asked.

“About ten minutes.” The one maintaining the shield was sweating hard.

“Jiang Ling! Cry!”

With permission granted, Ah Ling fear exploded. She burst into loud sobs.

Ghost powers were always most effective… against other ghosts.

Thus, while the others could barely manage to ignore the crying, the old woman’s thoughts froze for a moment.

That was enough. The long-range attacker slit his own wrist, and a few drops of blood turned into sharp spikes, stabbing into the old woman’s body from all directions.

Brother Wu didn’t move a muscle, arms folded, standing where he was.

This ghost was a mid-tier resentful-class, and her weakness was simple—don’t touch the gray powder, just use ranged attacks.

He told Jiang Ling to stop crying. She wasn’t going to contribute much in this battle—still too weak. The baby ghost inside her was only a mid-to-high wandering soul. She was just here to collect a bit of merit.

Another controller-type member wrapped their tendrils around the old woman.

But the gray powder clung to the tendrils, corroding them constantly, making the person click their tongue in pain.

Brother Wu consoled him, “You’re third in contribution.”

Then he turned to the long-range attacker. “Don’t stop. Keep going.”

And so, slowly and steadily, they wore the old woman down and killed her.

“Mid-tier vengeful ghost isn’t that hard to kill. The ghost in me is just a low-tier vengeful ghost ,” said the one who turned blood into blades with a laugh.

“If it weren’t for me, all of you would’ve been disfigured,” said the one who maintained the shield.

“Enough,” Brother Wu picked up the item dropped by the ghost after her death and ignored the greedy looks around him. “Time to leave.”

…

Dawn was near. Zhou Shurong woke up.

The moment he opened his eyes, the leaves above rustled, and a gust of wind swept past the ground, sending fallen leaves flying. He could feel that he’d grown stronger.

There was no one around, and the sky was still gloomy. Beside the trash can, a soda can lay on the ground. He glanced at it, and it floated up. His eyes narrowed, and an invisible force crushed the can instantly.

Clang!

He tossed the flattened can into the trash.

This was already strong. In human terms—he now had supernatural powers.

“No… not strong enough.”

A leaf drifted down. He reached out—only for it to pass right through his hand.

Zhou Shurong fell silent, clenching his fists.

“I need a physical body.”

He needed to ascend to the resentful-class to gain a physical body. Or parasitize someone and seize control, replacing their identity.

He didn’t want to use someone else’s body—but if it was his own twin, that would be a different story.

He stood up and gazed toward the approaching dawn.

The view pulled back: a man in an ivory-white suit stood beneath the tree. Wind passed through, dead leaves brushing past him without leaving a trace.

The sun was nearly up.

Zhou Shurong returned to the small apartment.

Qin Yan was still asleep. Zhou Shurong sat by the bed, watching him for a long time.

Perhaps sensing unease, Qin Yan had picked up his old broken habit—he’d piled Zhou Shurong’s clothes onto the bed again, building a nest.

Many clothes were tied and lumped together beneath his waist, making his expression uncomfortable.

Zhou Shurong gently lifted his body, rearranged the clothes, then settled him back. Qin Yan’s furrowed brows relaxed.

He continued staring at Qin Yan’s sleeping face.

Until seven o’clock, when he headed to the living room, turned on the TV, found the local morning news, and turned the volume down low.

The incense burner on the coffee table caught his eye briefly—its ashes looked almost fresh.

The host on the screen was rambling about nothing useful. After a while, Zhou Shurong raised his brows slightly, turned off the TV, drifted back into the bedroom, carefully flipped Qin Yan over, and pulled the phone from under his pillow.

There hadn’t been enough time for news to air, but the internet already had traces.

Voices swirled, all claiming Lin’an First People Hospital had experienced an unprecedented outbreak of infectious disease.

A few insisted it was the work of a ghost—but no one believed them. They were even mocked. Before long, their comments were deleted.

Zhou Shurong browsed for half an hour. Eventually, local authorities released an official statement confirming it was an infectious disease—but that it was now under control, and all infected individuals were being treated. No need for public concern. The message quickly hit trending.

Silently, Zhou Shurong turned Qin Yan over again and slipped the phone back under his pillow.

Too much had happened that night—it had stirred a deep sense of urgency and danger in his heart.

Such a powerful ghost… and it had been taken care of so quickly.

And the only reason he escaped was because he was too weak—not even worth dealing with.

“Weak…”

He strolled out into the living room. With a flick of his fingers, the ring around the trash bin warped and snapped, then continued to twist—turning into a sharp arrow-like shape before his eyes.

“I may be weak… but even someone like me can kill.”

Zhou Shurong’s gaze turned sharp. A moment later, he let out a bitter laugh.

“Still weak. This power’s sustained by yin energy. Use too much, and I’ll run out.”

But that old woman ghost from the hospital didn’t have that problem. The powder she released was as natural as breathing—instinctive.

And Uncle Wei… what exactly was his ability?

What a mess!

Ah Yan and Langxing were going to eat that damn haunted wonton again!

He had to stop them!